Indifference
by Wholocklolly
Summary: Sherlock believes himself to be indifferent towards Molly Hooper. One slip up has her believing otherwise. One-shot, based off a certain scene in The Empty Hearse. Warning for spoilers of the aforementioned episode.


The shards cascaded down around Molly, spraying onto her shoes. Staggering back a bit, she braced herself in surprise at the sight of Sherlock as he landed on his feet, adjusting his Belstaff and shaking free pieces of glass from his hair. Moving towards her, gaze predatory, Molly's lips parted in shock, welcoming him forward as he bent slightly to kiss her.

It lasted but a few moments, hot and slow and leaving Molly staggering forward for more when Sherlock pulled back. And then he was on his way down the hall, cool as ever, leaving Molly a bit shaken in her place.

Pausing just out of her view, Sherlock glanced back, before he procured his spare mobile from the pocket of his coat, firing off a text to Mycroft; a simple instruction to delay the car that was parked outside the building in the back alley. He didn't wait for the inevitable text back questioning the need for such a delay. Instead, he pocketed his mobile once more and whirled back, stalking towards Molly.

Busily cleaning up the shards of glass, Molly was still pink and flushed and appearing rather delicious as Sherlock pulled her up and towards him. He barely registered the shocked look on her face or the sound of the dustpan clattering to the floor, before his lips were on hers once more.

Sherlock's broad hands daintily cradled Molly's face and she tipped her chin up to meet his lips better, her fingers in his hair as he backed her towards a nearby table. His lips were almost harsh against her, nipping and sucking at her tongue, though she just as eagerly returned the brutal assault. It didn't take long for Sherlock to grow impatient of Molly's horrid apple printed blouse, deftly flicking open the buttons and splaying his fingers against her abdomen.

The skin he found there was pleasantly smooth and warm and he reached around to undo her bra as well, though he ended up fumbling with the ridiculously pointless garment in the end. Molly giggled against his mouth and Sherlock grunted, and she quickly undid the clasp of her bra for him, before tossing it somewhere over her shoulder.

His lips were hot against her breasts in an instant and she was panting softly and moaning his name like a mantra, making him smirk. They'd hardly even gotten started yet and he already had his name slipping off her lips. When he moved lower, she was positively keening, the smell of her arousal tart and sweet. Her sensible trousers just had to go, and so he quickly undid the button and zip on the front and tugged them down slowly.

When he looked up to momentarily meet her gaze, he caught sight of how incredibly _wrecked_ with lustshe appeared, and was pleased to know he'd been the one to put her in such a state. Legs splayed open; she leaned back on the heels of her hands, her lower lip wedged between her teeth, cheeks flushed and hair pulled from the tight ponytail that previously bound it.

Sherlock smirked to himself before his gaze went back down to the apex of her thighs, spreading her open by pressing gently on her knees. His lips descended on the pale flesh found there, dancing up inwards, peppering kisses and soft licks as he moved further and further upwards. There was a sharp intake of breath from above, making Sherlock smirk deeper as he nosed against the chestnut curls he found there.

Delighted by the soft, desperate noise that departed from her lips, Sherlock licked against her drenched opening, upwards to her swollen clit. Sucking gently, Sherlock's large hands gripped her hips as she thrashed against his face, a string of curses followed by a continual cry of his name falling off her lips.

The noises she made only served to boost Sherlock on, greedily sucking and licking at her until she was on the very precipice. However, Sherlock denied her release, moving his mouth back to her thigh. Her mournful wale made him growl deep in his chest, his lips moving back inwards, eager to taste the release he had previously been intent upon denying.

Molly's fingers knotted in his dark curls and her knees tensed around his head, her own thrown back as moan after moan of his name fell from her lips. She let out a final, hoarse cry of his name, her hips twisted against his mouth before she slumped slightly, fingers relaxing in his hair. She let out a soft puff of a breath as Sherlock drew back, smirking like the cat that had just gotten the canary. Boneless, Molly pulled him up and forward, sloppily kissing his lips, moist with the taste of herself.

When she managed to regain her bearings, she gripped his belt and tugged it free of its loops, working at his boxers and trousers before Sherlock grew impatient and kicked them down. Pooling at his feet, he didn't even bother to step out of them or remove his shirt before he was in between her thighs, kissing her deep and hot as he rutted against her.

Molly was moaning again, helpless little noises of pleasure as she locked her knees around his hips and splayed herself open for him. Taking hold of himself, Sherlock aligned his cock at her entrance before pressing into her, groaning gently and pressing his face into her neck. It took a few silent moments filled with little gasps and moans for Sherlock to bottom out inside of Molly. Rocking back slightly for a deeper angle, Molly groaned softly as Sherlock pulled out, and then thrust back in.

He set a steady pace that nearly made her teeth clack together with the pleasure of it, her insides flexing around him as he thrust, hard and heavy into her. His waist pressed her down on the table until she was laying down and he was bent over her, sucking and kissing a path down her pale chest, leaving little teeth marks in his wake that were sure to leave bruises.

He was marking her before he had to leave.

The coupling was desperate and hard and their moans were needy and low and their ends came all too soon. Edging her forward, Sherlock's fingers fled lower to her swollen clit. Watching himself thrust into her a few times, he let out a soft groan and thumbed her clit lazily. With a few more sharp cants of his hips, Sherlock spilled into her, and Molly groaned out as her end followed shortly after.

Collapsing against her, they both lay panting for a moment before Sherlock quickly drew back. The lack of Sherlock's weight and heat against her was palpable, and Molly quickly felt bare before his eyes. Slipping off the table top, she quickly gathered her things and tugged them on. With a final kiss to her jaw, Sherlock departed, leaving Molly standing with her hands clasped, her lips swollen, and a sizeable semen stain forming on the front of her trousers.

* * *

Molly waited for him to come back to her. She waited two years. And then she got on with her life. Or, so she told herself. But she wasn't so sure he was as indifferent towards her as he led everyone, and himself, to believe.


End file.
